Normality
by snyper
Summary: X-23 is living at the Institute, and is trying to learn to fit in as a normal girl before she gets enrolled in High School. Some Kurt/X-23, since this is in the same universe as my previous story although you don't need to read it first . Review!
1. Wannabe everygirl

A/N: I don't own the X-Men. And never will.

This story is a sequel to my previous one, "The Art of Conversation", although I wrote it so that it could stand alone. Please review. I only got 3 reviews out of 100 hits on my last story, so a lot of you are lazy. If you are reading this, I AM talking to you. There's no reason I shouldn't be able to get 100 reviews for 100 hits (although I know that is unrealistic). Anyway, enjoy the story!

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X-23 looked around the white, sterile room. Nothing out of the ordinary, just white tile, plastic, and stainless steel. The small 8-year-old tried to sit up slowly. Head spinning from the sedation drugs, she realized that her arms and legs were manacled to a reflective metal table. X-23 had been examined enough to know that she wouldn't have a chance of escaping. So she waited. She started to look at the tools on the low table next to the table, but the possible uses of a few of the more dangerous-looking ones quickly made this worse than staring at the ceiling. So she stared, imagining a map of HYDRA was there, with the grout between the tiles being the hallways. The cracks were secret passages, and the tiles themselves were the never-ending underground rooms housing whatever plethora of nefarious schemes the terrorist organization was cooking up. X-23 had only been in a handful of them herself, even though she had been in the facility for all of her 8 years. She wouldn't be surprised if the facility was really as expansive as the tile "map" on the roof. The door jerked open suddenly, jolting her from her thoughts. Three HYDRA personnel marched in, each clothed in a white coat and mask, the last one pushing a large cart topped by six identical rectangular chambers. Wires ran from each chamber to a large battery on the bottom of the cart. X-23 thought about asking what was going on, but she knew they wouldn't answer her anyway. She lifted her head nervously as a man took position on either side of her.

"You sure she can't escape?" one of the HYDRA guards asked.

"Positive. These cuffs are strong enough to hold the Hulk," replied the guard on X-23's other side, forcing a chuckle.

"Right."

The guard directed his attention to the helpless girl.

"Extend your claws."

X-23, startled at being spoken to, hesitated. The guard struck her in the face. The small girl screamed as a white flash and wave of pain enveloped her consciousness. Reluctantly, she extended her sharp bone claws. Why did the guards want HER claws? Didn't they have their own...

"OW!" she screamed, shocked into attentiveness by a blast of pain.

She glanced at her hand, which now had a scalpel protruding from it. The HYDRA guard grimly began to slice her hand, exposing the root of one of the claws.

"STOPITSTOPITSTOPIT!" X-23 screamed, in agony.

The guard jumped back as she started twisting her wrists in the manacles, but the other two quickly jumped in and immobilized her hand. Fighting back tears of pain, she gritted her teeth until one of them chipped. Not that she noticed. Her hand felt like it was on fire, and being fried by a thousand tasers. Suddenly a new pain, much worse than the first, stung her brain.

"GAAAAAAAH!" X-23 screeched, much to the annoyance of the guards.

Forcing herself to look back at her hand, she saw it flayed open, with one claw missing. The guard with the scalpel was holding the missing bone up to the light, examining it.

"Well, that's one down, five to go," the guard announced.

"NO! STOP!" X-23 sobbed before she began slipping into unconsciousness.

"Well, there she goes, fainting again. Looks like SHE won't be eating for another couple days," the guard chuckled. Struggling to stay awake, X-23 heard the loud hum of the machine in the cart.

"I wonder how she'll handle the reinsertion," the third guard remarked.

The strain was too much, and X-23 was out like a light.

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X-23 awoke with a start. Grabbing her pillow, she extended her claws reflexively, impaling the cushion and sticking it to the bed. Bed? She suddenly remembered where she was. This was the Xavier mansion, not HYDRA. She was 15, not 8. Her name was now Laura, not X-23. And her claws were still made almost completely of metal, not bone. Just like they had been for just under half her life. She glanced at the clock, which read 5:28 AM. Officially Day 5 of her stay at the Institute. She slowly peeled back the silk sheets and swung her legs out of bed. Peeling off her monogrammed pajamas, she walked over to her closet. Picking out what to wear seemed like such a big hassle for the other girls, but Laura couldn't understand it. Not that that meant she wouldn't try. As Kurt had told her two nights ago, she should try to fit in. She glanced from shirt to shirt, not seeing how the style affected it's usefulness as a garment. Finally settling on one, she picked out a pair of pants to go along with it. Slowly making her way downstairs, she noticed a few other early-risers at the kitchen table, most of them doing last-minute homework. She recalled their names instantly: Jean was the redhead with a bemused look on her face as if her homework was too easy, Scott was the one with the scowl. Laura wondered how two minds could not comprehend the same material from what was probably the same teacher. The one they called "Kitty" was sitting alert in her chair, meticulously studying a cookbook.

"Oh, hey Laura," Scott called, forcing a grin. Obviously half-asleep, he looked unintentionally oblivious to everything but his immediate surroundings. Kitty and Jean echoed his salutation.

"...good morning..." Laura slowly replied, unsure as to what was so great about it. Last time they had said "good morning" she had ended up being told that she was to be enrolled in school within a week, and had later gotten a lecture about teamwork from Logan. She didn't know why, he just seemed to get angry. It was his stupid game of "Baseball" or whatever it was called that was messed up, not her. After all, if the intention was to be fun, why did she have to stand on a little white pad and wait for the ball to come to her, which it never seemed to do? All the stupid rules came back to her, like the one about having to run on straight lines between the bases. She'd only broken that one once, and the tree WAS practically beckoning to be climbed. She was running from an adversary, and she performed an evasive maneuver. Not that Logan would understand. All this new information was confusing.

"So, what are you, like, doing up so early?" Kitty questioned.

Laura's mind raced, as if to come up with a convincing story about how... no. She wasn't being interrogated, the girl was just curious.

"I always get up this 'early'," she replied. "It was part of my conditioning," the former assassin-in-training added casually.

"Wow. If I had to get up this early every day, I would, like, DIE of tiredness!" Kitty exclaimed.

"That's 'exhaustion', Kitty," Scott corrected. "'Tiredness' isn't a word."

"Whatever. You know what I meant," Kitty responded defensively.

And so the conversation went, with an small debate over word usage or trivial detail every so often. Scott was definitely preparing himself for an english quiz of some sort.

At 6:40 exactly Rogue trotted down the stairs.

"Morning," she remarked, more as a statement than a salutation.

The others responded in kind.

The other X-Men stumbled down the stairs soon after, all in various states of drowsiness. The non-morning people had arrived. All were clambering to get breakfast.

*BAMF*

Kurt teleported into the midst of the fray, picking a pear out of a basket casually.

"Geez, Kurt. You trying to ruin our appetites with that disgusting smoke?" Logan growled.

"Heh, sorry," Kurt responded, grinning as if he really wasn't.

Laura sat in her chair, unmoving. She hated loud noise, and crowds. She didn't have to go to school yet anyway, so why rush?

*BAMF*

Kurt popped into existence in the seat next to her, right as Spyke was about to sit down in it. Shrugging, the skater went to find another seat.

"Hey, X, er, Laura! I noticed you were just sitting there, so I made you breakfast," Kurt loudly announced, pushing a bowl of cereal towards her.

Startled, Laura felt her face inexplicably getting hot.

"Ooh, look who's blushing!" Spyke exclaimed gleefully. "Kurt and Laura, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S..."

"That's enough, Spyke." Jean interrupted, with just a hint of mirth in her voice. "Kurt was just getting her some cereal. It's no big deal."

"Yeah, what's the big deal?" Kurt joined. "Geez, can you give a guy a break?"

Laura looked at her "breakfast soup" unsurely. Wasn't it obvious that Kurt was just getting her some food? What did they THINK he was doing? He even said it out loud.

Her musings were silenced by her stomach growling. She dug into the cereal.

"You're never going to keep that figure if you are always eating so fast, ya know," Kitty scolded.

Laura was confused.

"What 'figure'?" she asked, mystified, inadvertently causing everyone to die laughing.

These people were so confusing. It was like they came from another planet. Luckily, everybody started leaving for school at once.

*BAMF*

Kurt teleported next to her as everyone else left the kitchen.

"See you tonight, Laura," he grinned.

Clamping her in a tight hug, he teleported again.

*BAMF*

Startled as much by the hug as Kurt's ability to appear out of nowhere, Laura slowly walked back up the stairs, glancing back to see her fellow mutants leaving in various vehicles and on foot. Returning to her room, she sat on the bed, staring at the floor for a few seconds. Nobody had complimented her clothes, like they did with Kitty's. She must have done something wrong. She did a quick calculation. If there were 8 shirts and 8 pairs of pants, then there were 64 permutations. If she wore one combination at breakfast and one when everyone got back from school, it would take her about four and a half weeks to discover which ones got the most compliments. Of course, it could be that the fact that nobody noticed her clothes at all was a good thing. The first day she tried to pick her own clothes... But she quickly stopped thinking about that. At least the humiliation was from people who were now her friends. They had probably forgotten all about it. Taking everything off, she stood in the door of the closet, studying the clothes and trying to find a pattern between the combination that had been received with hostility and the other possibilities. She was interrupted by a knock at her door. She walked over and opened it.

"Laura, I..." Professor Xavier began as the door opened. "Oh my!" he exclaimed, turning his head away. "You should probably put some clothes on," he more ordered than suggested.

Laura sighed. She'd forgotten that clothing was mandatory in "normal" places. So much was different than HYDRA. There nobody seemed to care whether she chose to wear clothes or not. Of course, they kept her locked up like an animal, so they weren't expecting anything human from her. Still, the guards didn't seem to mind...

"Anyway," the professor continued when Laura was finished, shaking off his embarrassment, I was just hoping to find out how you like it at the Institute."

Laura sat on her bed, expressionless.

"It's good," she stated. "Just confusing."

Xavier chuckled.

"That's good. Don't worry, we'll make a teenager out of you yet!" he added, leaving.

Laura was puzzled. Wasn't her age all that mattered? Was their another requirement? Maybe being able to choose clothing correctly? Oh well. She was learning. Besides, when she thought about it, she really liked the Institute. She could get used to it here. It might take a while, but she could handle it. She would just treat it like another daily training session: observing how to be normal. She smiled. She would be the world's most normal girl before she started school. And she would enjoy every minute of it.


	2. Bad start

A/N: Thank you to may reviewers, especially Caprichoso, Rya Three Saber, and ppirilla (for their more specific reviews). I've kind of fallen in love with this particular pairing, and it seems to work well despite being completely out in left field. I don't like how this chapter as much since I wrote it in a rush, so you'll have to review it and tell me if it's any good or not. :D I'm not a very good judge of my own writing. I hope you like it!

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The breeze swayed the hammock gently as Laura (alias X-23) lounged in the sun, drinking a glass of lemonade that Kitty had shown her how to make. It was quite an excellent drink, possessing all the good qualities of lemon juice without the sour taste Laura detested so much. Kitty loved hers strong, but Laura couldn't stand it at all. Watered down a bit, however, it was her new favorite beverage. She checked her new wristwatch. 4:27 PM. Everybody was back from school at this point, and Laura was hoping she would get a few more minutes to herself before...

"Hey, Laura! Want to play some baseball?" Kurt asked.

Laura was slightly pleased that he had taken a personal interest to her. The other students were nice, but they usually ignored her, preferring to talk about their own topics that Laura knew nothing about. Laura rolled around in the hammock as she pondered Kurt's invitation. She did do bad at it last time, but if she practiced it might help her become more... normal. She grinned, uncharacteristically.

"I'll play, but you have to tell me if I do something wrong."

Kurt smiled.

"I don't think you can do anything wrong, Laura. We're just playing catch," he reassured.

"I thought you said we were playing baseball," Laura questioned.

Kurt laughed, much to Laura's exasperation.

"No, no. We're playing WITH a baseball. Baseball usually means with teams on a field, but if you say it casually it can mean to just play catch," the fuzzy mutant explained.

"Oh..." Laura responded lamely. "So how do you play catch?"

"Simple!" Kurt began, grinning widely. "Catch!"

He tossed the ball in the air. Laura watched it for a second before leaping out of the hammock and catching it with one hand. Hurling it forcefully over her shoulder, she threw it perfectly aimed... at Kurt's face.

*BAMF*

Kurt appeared in a puff of black smoke further away in the field, the ball passing harmlessly through a dark, sulfurous cloud where the teleporter's face had been moments before. The ball had lost enough speed by the time it got to his new position that he was able to safely catch it.

"Laura, that throw was really hard!" Kurt chastised. "You could have killed me! Splat!"

Laura hung her head in remorse.

"It was still an amazing throw, though," Kurt consoled. "There's probably some professional pitchers that can't throw that hard. Well, maybe not, but still."

Laura didn't answer.

"Are you ok?" Kurt asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Laura replied, visibly dejected. She paused. "Kurt, would you say that my throw was... normal?" she asked, cautiously.

"Are you kidding? Man, sometimes I think I'd kill to have an arm like that!"

Laura winced at his use of the word "kill", remembering her days at HYDRA. Her second reaction was depression. Now she would never be normal. Everything she did was either too good or too bad. At the brink of tears, she ran off towards the Institute.

"Wait, Laura! I still want to play with you! It's ok!" Kurt called out, worried that he'd crushed her confidence. Geez, how hard is it to crush the confidence of a trained assassin?

Laura slowly walked through the Institute, hoping to avoid notice. Seeing Kitty, Jean, and Bobby in the kitchen, she paused to listen.

"...so out of place. She, like, can't even color-coordinate!" Kitty said loudly, although attempting to be quiet.

"She can't help it," Jean responded. "I mean, growing up in a lab like that. It's got to be tough."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. Like, adapt or die, or however it goes."

Laura, blinded by tears, silently rushed up the stairs as fast as she could, missing Jean's correction of Kitty.

"I think she's doing rather well," Jean replied. "Remember, you've been living normally for your entire life. She's had just over a week."

"I guess," Kitty responded, slightly ashamed. "But she should still be more fashion conscious."

Unaware of Jean's defense, she headed up to see Wolverine. At least he could sympathize with her. She peeked her head in his room, but he was gone. There was a note on his bed, and Laura picked it up and scanned it.

"Gone to auto parts store, be back later. Tell mini-me not to worry."

Laura growled. "Mini-me"? And he thought she would worry? Nobody said anything like this about any of the other students. He was treating her as if she was a child! Angry, and suddenly hungry, she headed to Wolverine's private mini-fridge. There was nothing but a small sandwich and those weird bottled drinks that he snuck in with the rest of the groceries. Laura picked up the sandwich, and took several bottles out of spite. Back in her room she finished off the sandwich and opened one of the bottles. Taking a sip, she grimaced at first, then stopped. It wasn't good, but it wasn't bad either. Remembering how Wolverine would drink it when he was upset, she tilted it up and chugged the whole bottle. Only her conditioned assassin's stomach kept her from throwing up. She hadn't realized it would be so fizzy! But whether from the sandwich or the placebo effect, she felt better already. So she opened another bottle.

Twenty minutes later, Laura shuffled out of her room, thoroughly tipsy. She would have been scared of the strange sensations, but they were somehow comforting. Wandering aimlessly down the stairs, she headed outside. Seeing Kitty, she hurried by, luckily seeing that the hammock was empty. Climbing in, she closed her eyes, feeling drowsy. Ten minutes later, Kurt tapped her on the shoulder.

"Laura? Are you awake?"

Laura opened her eyes.

"Oh, hello Kurt," she said awkwardly.

"Listen, Laura, I'm sorry about getting upset earlier today. I just was a little stressed out, and my adrenaline was pumping, you know?"

Laura smiled and sat up. Suddenly upright, she was hit by the full effects of the alcohol, and fell out of the hammock, landing on her face. Not even registering pain, she rolled over, giggling. Kurt, surprised at her display of mirth, especially after a humiliating fall, started laughing as well. Sitting down beside her, since she showed no effort of getting up, he put his hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, you'll be just like a normal kid by the time school starts," he reassured.

Laura's first thought was shock. How did he know about her goal? Her second was intense happiness, assisted liberally by the alcohol. Without thinking, she grabbed Kurt around the neck and kissed him right on the lips. Kurt was shocked at first, but deepened the kiss slightly. Pulling away after several seconds, he suddenly became suspicious.

"Laura... have you been drinking?" he asked worriedly, smelling alcohol on her breath.

Laura giggled. "Of course! Otherwise I'd get dehidriated... dehyd... dehydrated and DIE!" she giggled again like a hyper schoolgirl, with a bit of a slur.

Kurt became stern. "What have you been doing?" he asked, almost at a loss for words.

A rustle in the bushes suddenly diverted his attention. He suddenly realized that he'd been watched, probably the whole time.

*BAMF*

He appeared in the bushes, along with several loud protests. He grabbed the spy and marched out of the hiding area to find... Rogue?

"Having a bit of fun, little brother?" she snickered sarcastically, with her southern accent.

"Why were you spying on us?" Kurt demanded.

"I wasn't spying!" Rogue exclaimed in mock horror. "I was just sitting over there, writing my poetry, when suddenly you lovebirds show up and, well, I couldn't pass up my baby brother's first kiss, could I?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. Sure. NOW she was his big sister.

"...I... I'm not a baby," he retorted lamely, sitting back down next to Laura, who was on her back, practically oblivious to the whole situation.

Kurt suddenly thought of something.

"What makes you think it was my first kiss?" he asked, annoyed.

Rogue smiled. "Just a guess. You don't exactly have what I'd call 'killer looks', you know."

Kurt angrily looked around to make sure nobody had overheard them.

"You won't tell anybody, will you?" he asked angrily, with a twinge of humility.

Rogue smiled maliciously.


	3. I love it when a plan comes together!

A/N: Thank you again for all the reviews. Yes, the kiss was early, but I'm using it as my own lame excuse for a plot device. Don't worry, things are going to take a much more realistic pace. Egad! These things just keep getting shorter and shorter... Would you rather have faster updates or longer chapters? Put it in a review! Man, checking reviews is just like Christmas. But enough about that. On with the story!

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Kurt glared at Rogue angrily.

"You aren't going to tell, right?"

Rogue didn't flinch.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"Come on, Rogue! I don't go telling about your personal life. Besides, I think..." Kurt looked back at Laura, "I think she's been drinking."

"What?" Rogue asked, more in disbelief than shock. "How is that even possible?"

"She probably took it out of Wolverine's stash. You know he HAS to have one somewhere," Kurt guessed. "I doubt she even knew what it was. She doesn't know much about food."

"I know lots about food..." Laura declared, sleepily, still lying on her back.

Kurt and Rogue walked a little further away and continued their conversation, away from their subject.

"Please, Rogue!" Kurt begged. "If Professor Xavier finds out, he could make her leave! She didn't know any better. And if she left... I think I'd go with her," Kurt added, sadly.

"Geez, Kurt, you really care about her," Rogue observed, softly.

Kurt paused, looking at the ground.

"Yeah, I guess I do. She's kind of like me, you know? When I came to America, I didn't know a thing about how to act. All my schools in Germany were... stricter. Fancy private schools, you know? Not as many people to hide from. People there didn't tolerate blue demons, and people here don't tolerate people who act like robots."

Rogue nodded silently.

"I think she could use my help," Kurt finished.

He looked up, slightly embarrassed at his confession.

"Wow, Kurt," Rogue began, with a newfound respect for her foster brother, "I didn't think you felt that way about... anything, really."

"Heh, yeah. I crack jokes when I'm uncomfortable," Kurt explained. "And, well, I guess I do when I'm not, too." He smiled.

"Well, I guess she does need some friends," Rogue remarked thoughtfully. "I guess I could help her with the whole 'robot' thing."

"She's not that bad now," Kurt explained. "It's just the way she thinks, mostly. She can't really help it. She mostly just needs to know how to fit in."

Rogue looked up.

"Well, I better get. I've got dinner duty tonight."

Kurt looked up at her.

"Rogue... did you mean what you said about being my big sister?"

Rogue stopped, not expecting this question.

"I mean, I was joking around, but, well... I guess you could say that I've been thinking a lot about our mother. You know, how I can't really write her off or anything. So, uh, yeah. I guess you could say that I'm thinking about things a bit differently. Not that this means I'll drive you around town or anything," she finished with a smirk.

"Well..." Kurt started, mischievously, "you think you could help me carry Laura up to her bed?"

Rogue looked over at Laura, who was peacefully asleep in the summer sun. Just when she thought she and Kurt were kindred spirits...

"Alright, fine," she half snarled, inwardly smiling, "but you owe me."

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Laura awoke in her bed with a splitting headache. Struggling to see through the fog of her hangover, she wondered what could have been in those drinks. At first she thought they were like the antidepressants she was forced to take at HYDRA, but now she wondered why anybody would bother to drink anything that would leave you this miserable. She suddenly realized that part of the reason she couldn't see was that it was dark, with only the moonbeams streaming through the big bay window to illuminate the room.

"Morning, sleepyhead. We thought you'd never wake up," Rogue said from the shadows.

Laura groaned loudly as she sat up. Her head swimming, she suddenly remembered kissing Kurt, and the thought hit her like a bombshell. He wasn't unattractive, but STILL. She didn't get the significance of it, but her intuition told her it was a big deal.

"Did I...?" she started, worriedly.

"Lock lips with Kurt? Heh, yeah," Rogue replied. "It was quite the smooch."

Laura groaned again.

"What was wrong with me?"

Rogue smiled at the small assassin's naiveté.

"That's booze, girl. You've got to be careful or you'll do something stupid without even thinking about it. Although it was pretty stupid in the first place to get into Wolverine's stash," Rogue observed.

"Wha... what time is it?" Laura asked after a brief pause.

Rogue looked at the bedside clock. "9:30," she announced. "You've been out for four and a half hours."

Laura groaned for the third time.

"What are you doing in my room?" she inquired.

"Professor Xavier didn't like you being alone so much. I overheard him talking with Beast about it, and so I volunteered. Kurt helped me move my bed, and I'll get the rest of my things tomorrow," came Rogue's reply. "We're both loners, so I figure we should get along fine."

Laura pondered this. It was nice of Rogue to try and be nice, but why HER? She wasn't special. She was a hopeless, socially inept failure.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she finally asked.

"Because you're a fellow mutant. We've got to stick together, you know?" Rogue answered. She paused. "Alright, you can blame Kurt. He kinda told me you were lonely," The southern girl admitted.

Laura started. Was she that transparent? Everybody seemed to be able to read her mind, and that's exactly what she'd been trained to avoid all her life.

"Kurt really likes you, you know," Rogue remarked.

Laura was pretty much in the dark about love, but she was starting to understand affection.

"How do you know?" she pressed, almost distrusting.

"I... I'm his sister," Rogue finally said.

Boy, it felt good to finally say those words. Almost as if an entire part of her had been in prison and she'd just unlocked it. She smiled.

"Oh," Rogue added, "I heard you've been asking about being normal..."

Did EVERYBODY know?

"...and I think I can help you with that."

Laura smiled in spite of herself.

"By the way, I saved you some dinner. I thought you might be hungry," Rogue offered.

Laura took the plate and dug in, quickly wolfing down a whole piece of chicken and some rice. She hesitated at the vegetables, but ate them just as quickly after an experimental taste. Handing the plate back to Rogue, she lay back down on her pillow.

"Rogue?" Laura asked.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"It's alright. Kitty and Jean kind of did the same thing for me, and it really helped me feel like part of the gang," Rogue mentioned.

"Do you think I can achieve normality?" Laura asked, sleepily.

"Well, the first thing is to teach you how to talk like a teenager," Rogue smirked. "But I reckon we can get you there."

Laura smiled as blissful sleep enveloped her. Rogue smiled at the young mutant before turning and walking across the room to her own bed. She made a mental note: Tomorrow, after school. Being normal 101. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.


	4. Slightly Sick, and Self Sacrificing

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, especially the repeat ones! I love to hear people discuss my story as it changes and builds. In response to 12kirby12, Wolverine (and, by extension, X-23) IS in fact capable of being drunk (it actually happened a few times in the comics, I believe). Thanks anyway, though, since I always need people watching out for factual errors. The next chapter is going to be heavy on Laura-Logic, which is probably the most fun thing to write, and most likely to read, as well. Thanks for bearing with me as I introduced the other characters' mindsets on everything. Thanks for reading!

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Instinct was a funny thing. It could often be right, no matter how much logic or evidence said otherwise. Sometimes, however, instinct was overshadowed by excitement, or caught up in adrenaline rushes. Not for Laura. She was conditioned to always trust her instincts, and it showed through the best during stress and fighting. She was an animalistic killing machine, and everything she'd been told pointed to this as being perfection. But was it? When instinct tells you not to trust someone just because you've never met them, or to tease a friend just because everybody else is, and that in the long run a lack of conflict will outweigh a lifelong companion, what is the best option? The choice had always been obvious: whichever was quickest, had the least impact, and was closer to the original plan. Life was like a plan, but it was a plan without a mission briefing, dossier, schedule, or map. It seemed like everyone else had walked the mock-up, memorized the timetable, and read up on the target. And Laura was completely lost. Trust your instincts. She had told herself this over and over again. But how could instinct possibly be right? She had no experience with this world, this alternate reality that was life outside of HYDRA. Instinct was a part of her, and as such was just as ignorant. She wanted to fit in, but everything her brain told her was wrong. Blend in, disappear. No, that was the opposite of what she wanted. She didn't want to vanish, she wanted to BELONG. To LIVE.

Somehow these concepts seemed so freeform in her head, but they came out rigid and lifeless. She couldn't communicate her thoughts, she had realized, because the very act of saying them aloud seemed to kill the ideas somehow. Not like Kurt. He expressed ideas effortlessly, from a relative standpoint. And Kitty! She just emitted opinions like nobody's business. But here was Laura, poor, little lab-raised Laura, unable to get a single sentence out without sounding out-of-place. And feeling sorry for herself, to boot. Maybe this was why HYDRA trained her to be silent. At least now she had two friends: Kurt and Rogue. Not GOOD friends, but it was a start. Even the word "friend" made her feel warm inside, as if it filled a previously-unnoticed part of her being. Laura slowly sat up, still feeling a bit sick, although not nearly as much as she had the night before. She was in her bed, and the state of the sheets told the tale of her night: the comforter was on the floor, the top sheet was completely untucked and wrapped around Laura like a sleeping bag, and the fitted sheet was halfway off. She had woken several times in the middle of the night, partially due to her unplanned nap the day before.

She checked the clock: 5:25 AM. Sighing, she realized that she wasn't going to get back to sleep. Still contemplating friendship, her mind began to drift over different aspects of her relationship with Kurt. Remembering his face reminded her of her kiss the day before, or at least as much as she had been aware of through the haze of alcohol. It had all happened so fast; her leaning in, his startled expression, her satisfied half-nap half-coma on the warm summer grass. With Kurt practically by her side. She didn't know why she found that significant, although it must have had something to do with the fact that she finally had a friend... right? No, Rogue was a friend, and that was different. Although she'd only REALLY met her last night, but she still didn't get the odd feelings like she did with Kurt. And the KISS. Why had she done that? She supposed she was just remembering one of the blending-in movies HYDRA had forced her to watch, with all the people interacting in different ways. Or maybe it was that video the guard always seemed to be sneaking into the observation room during his night shift. The one where nobody had any clothes, and everybody seemed very intent on touching and caressing someone of the opposite sex. Laura had only seen a few seconds of the video, and she was strangely fascinated with it. But that still didn't explain WHY she had kissed him. It was nothing that logic dictated a person would ever do. Nothing to gain except possibly germs. Still, her instinct told her that this was something special, something important. Instinct sure was a funny thing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rogue's alarm clock beeped loudly, causing the southern girl to grope madly for the snooze button. Completely buried in pillows and a monstrous quilt, she looked like a giant fabric bulge with an arm. Remembering how she was in a new room, with a new roommate, she suddenly sat upright, scattering three or four pillows in all directions. She looked over towards Laura's empty bed. Oh yeah, she's an early riser. She'd forgotten that. Rogue felt a twinge of pity for the poor girl, being forced to wake up, probably with a cattle prod, when any sane person would be sleeping. The alarm went off a second time, causing her to jump involuntarily. Throwing on some clothes, she quickly walked downstairs, where the inviting smell of bacon and eggs beckoned.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kurt teleported right into his seat as Rogue walked in. He sat there quietly grinning at the perks of his mutation while everybody else scrambled for a seat. Laura was already sitting down opposite him, and a few other mutants were already eating. Kurt, with his voracious appetite, still found it better to wait until everybody else had found a seat before getting up to get his food. He got the bottom of the barrel, but was guaranteed the best seat at the table every time. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Wolverine coming down the stairs, complete with requisite scowl. Kurt squirmed. Wolverine slapped his newspaper down on the table.

"Which one of you little twerps was in my room?" he inquired menacingly.

"Why? Are you missing something?" Beast asked from his standard position next to the stove.

"Nothing of consequence," Wolverine growled.

Laura looked down at her food and made a pretense of concentrating on the eggs.

"But lemme tell ya, bub, the next person who sneaks into my room is gonna be toast," Wolverine threatened.

"What makes you think they were sneaking, Logan?" Beast questioned.

"They had to have been. Because..." he stopped, not wanting to reveal his reasons. "Trust me, they did. And I'm not happy about it," he announced as he stormed out of the room.

All the students stared in shock. Who would be so STUPID as to go into Wolverine's room? Everybody started whispering and hypothesizing to themselves until one by one they began to leave for school.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I wanna talk to you, kid," Logan growled angrily at Laura.

Laura looked up from her book, startled.

"Yeah, you. I heard you weren't feeling so well yesterday. It wasn't a hangover, was it?" Logan grilled.

"n-No. I was just sick, is all."

"That's funny, kid, 'cause I ain't been sick a day in my life, and seeing as how you're my clone, I'd think you wouldn't either," the older mutant reasoned. "And it seems to coincide with my losing a couple bottles of beer. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" he glared at her suspiciously.

Laura remained calm and tried to formulate a story.

"It... it was..."

"It was me, Mr. Logan," came a new voice.

Logan whirled around. Kurt stood in the doorway, hanging his head.

"I was getting some ice out of your freezer and I decided to look in your fridge. I knocked a couple bottles over, and they broke. I guess I thought you wouldn't notice," the blue, fuzzy mutant confessed.

Laura almost fell over. Why was he pretending to be guilty? Here she was trying so hard to avoid it, and he was walking into a huge punishment. Logan glared at Kurt.

"Why aren't you at school?"

"I'm coming down with a pretty bad cold. Professor X told me I should stay," Kurt explained.

"Follow me, elf. We've got to talk."

Kurt slowly followed Logan up the stairs until they were out of earshot of Laura.

"Alright, elf. Enough games. I know you're trying to protect someone, and I want to know who," Logan stated.

"It really was me, Mr. Logan," Kurt adamantly intoned.

Logan looked him over.

"Fine. Don't tell me. But just know that I'm going to keep looking, and when I find whoever did it..." he said, unsheathing his claws, "there's gonna be hell to pay."

Kurt awkwardly looked around.

"So... can I go now?" he finally asked.

"Yeah, sure. But don't forget. Tell whoever-it-was not to come around messing with my stuff. ESPECIALLY my beer."

Kurt almost laughed at how he was more concerned about HIS beer than the fact that it was consumed by a teenager, but kept up the pretense of remorse until he was back downstairs. He plopped down on the sofa next to Laura, who seemed slightly disconcerted at his presence, this being their first time alone since their awkward kiss. Laura finally broke the silence.

"Why did you do that?" she practically demanded.

"Huh?" Kurt feigned ignorance.

"Why did you lie to Logan?"

Kurt looked self-conscious.

"Uh, I guess I didn't want you getting into trouble so quickly. You've only been here about a week," he explained, unconvincingly.

Laura could tell he didn't want to explain further, so she didn't press the matter. That was something she had figured out herself: forcing someone to talk about something they didn't want to wasn't good. Hearing footsteps, she looked up. Logan looked at the two mutants sitting so close to each other on the same sofa and cocked an eyebrow. Kurt gulped, remembering that Laura was practically Logan's daughter. Oh man, he thought, I'm screwed.


	5. Sandwich mayhem

A/N: Well, this one took a bit longer, but I'm satisfied with the result. Thanks again for all your reviews! Those of you who don't write will never realize how much it means to us writers when we check in and see five new ones each morning. I was going to have Rogue introduce Laura to music in this chapter, but I feel like that option has been exploited too much by n00bs who just want to plug their own favorite bands. As much as I would love it if Rogue (my favorite character, by the way) was into U2, The Bravery, and Shiny Toy Guns, it would be completely out of character compared to something punk, death metal, or whatever the heck goth type people listen to. Seriously, half the point of fanfiction is that the characters are already created, and as such have pre-formed personalities that aren't the same as yours. Glad that's off my chest. But you're not here to read my inane ranting, you're here for the story. So without further ado, the next chapter.

[EDIT (ZOMG!): A lot of people have brought up the issue of Laura's emotions. My perspective is that HYDRA failed to drain of her of emotion (the mission below I imagine to have been completed before conditioning was finished). My reasoning is that when the guilty lady whatshername in the episode "X-23" said that their efforts to drain her of emotion left only anger (or something along those lines), this was proof that she still retained emotions. Anger = Emotion therefore Lack of Emotion ≠ Anger. Wanna know how Laura gets angry at her superiors? Try murdering former allies. Does anyone besides Rya think Rogue is out of character? She's awfully hard to write when she's talking to Scott (just look at how unpredictable she is when she tries asking Scott to the dance). Of course, the unpredictable-ness makes her so fun to write for. Thanks for reviewing!

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"Five minutes. That's all I'm giving you. You understand that if you exceed my limit I will send in my elite troopers to kill everyone in the building, including you?"

"I understand."

The small, stout, green-suited man extended his hand, offering a standard 9mm Beretta.

"I think you know what to do with this. Double-tap, center mass. Don't try for a headshot if you have any possibility of missing. I'm not going to risk the mission for your fancy trick shooting."

X-23 looked emotionlessly at the firearm.

"Why am I using standard weapons?" she questioned, with only a hint of displeasure.

"We don't want my competitors to know that our branch has a clone of Weapon X. We'll let them find that out when the time is right. HYDRA needs ONE head, and I think I will fit the part nicely," the man chuckled at the irony. "Now go. Our window of opportunity lasts seven more minutes."

X-23 took off down the alleyway, using her claws to climb the three-story brick building. The adamantium gleamed in the moonlight. Arriving on the roof, she walked straight to the skylight, as she had rehearsed a dozen times. The dirty yellow light revealed a run-down apartment building. It was common for HYDRA officers to stay in dank apartments, which usually helped them avoid suspicion. Popping the latch, X-23 slid her lithe body down into the room. She could hear talk and laughter coming from the adjoining dining room, and she slowly walked to the doorway. Three men were seated around a small round table, drinking beer and vodka and playing cards. One of them held a sandwich. The laughter stopped as the men looked up at the intruder.

At first they thought she was just a local girl that wandered in, but then they noticed the skintight HYDRA jumpsuit. Reaching behind her, the girl pulled out the handgun. Raising it to her eye, she fired twice in rapid succession. The man farthest from the door fell backwards, revealing a large red spatter on the wall. The other two men scrambled for their weapons, but X-23 was faster. Firing four more times, she dropped both of them before they could remove the guns from their holsters. One of the men attempted to crawl towards her.

"Wh... why are you doing this?" he wheezed, slowly dying in a pool of his own blood.

X-23 stopped cold. Fully realizing that she was responsible for the deaths of these men, a small tear appeared in the corner of her eye. Raising the gun a final time, she fired again. The pistol jumped back for a split second before re-settling on it's target. But it was all over. All three men were dead, victims of a coup for a position in a terrorist organization. X-23 tried not to think about this as she reloaded and headed for the door. The bodyguards would be there any second.

As if on queue, the door burst inward, revealing several men in black suits with assault rifles. Four men, to be exact, and nine angry bullets in her Beretta. Like the trained killer she was, X-23 fired just as calmly as she had at the gun range every single day for as long as she could remember. Two shots per person, all in the chest. The men got off seven shots total, and all went wild.

Stepping over the bodies, X-23 walked down the small, concrete breezeway, not worried about witnesses from the other apartments. Most of the rooms were empty, and the neighborhood was so bad that a few gunshots would have people hiding in their closets anyway. No delusions of grandeur from people who witnessed the wrath of determined killers on a weekly basis. Getting to the end of the hallway, X-23 vaulted over the low wall and rolled as she hit the ground, absorbing the impact. Heading back around to the alleyway, she unholstered the handgun again. The stout, selfish, conniving terrorist was waiting.

"Good job. Did you follow my instructions?"

"Yes," X-23 growled. "To the word."

"Any ammo left?"

"I reloaded after expending seven shots, and left the clip on the floor. There's one round in the chamber," she ended ominously.

One round.

Her face blank, X-23's mind inwardly contorted with grief at her own actions. Lifting the pistol up, she waited a moment, observing the man's shocked expression. Gently squeezing the trigger, she felt the slight, sudden, almost pleasant recoil. A small spray of blood made the brick wall even redder. One shot to the head, no witnesses. A member of HYDRA, on the government's most wanted list. Seven more victims upstairs, and no killer. The newspapers would publish it, X-23 knew, and people would be scared for a few days, maybe lock their doors more than usual, and then forget about it. But to her, it was the whole world. Blood and more blood. She would say that a bodyguard got a lucky shot off, be reprimanded for not protecting him, and that would be that. Walking back to the extraction point to regroup with the emergency elite units, she noticed a tear trickling down her cheek.

"Police! Show us your hands!"

X-23 broke into a run, but she didn't get far before the HYDRA soldiers ran out of an alley near the extraction point, weapons blazing. Spinning around, she saw a group of policemen. Suddenly, a searing pain in her right buttock caused her to cry out in pain. Clutching it angrily, she turned to see one of the cops leveling a shotgun at her head.

BANG.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Laura? Laura!"

The small brunette shook herself awake. She must have fallen asleep on the couch. Rogue was standing over her, smirking. Glancing around, Laura noticed that everybody was returning from school.

"Is Kurt doing better?" Rogue asked, fishing.

She was hoping Kurt would have taken advantage of being home alone with her to get to know her a little better.

"I don't know," Laura answered truthfully.

How could she tell if he was doing better? She couldn't think his thoughts. Laura stood up slowly.

"Are you going to teach me to be normal?" she asked.

Rogue laughed.

"My, my, my. Aren't you the patient one?" she laughed.

Laura wondered if she'd have to look up "patient" in the dictionary to show Rogue. Patient, indeed.

"So are you?"

"After I get a snack. I'm starving," she promised.

Rogue headed into the kitchen, and Laura followed her, having nothing better to do.

Kurt was sitting at the far side of the table, chatting with Scott, who was making a noticeable effort to stay as far away from the sick mutant as possible while still listening. Kurt stopped talking as Laura and Rogue walked in. Did Laura remember the kiss? Had she revealed her true thoughts, or was she just not thinking?

"Uh, er, where was I?" he asked.

"Your quiz on Ancient Mesopotamia."

"Right. So anyway..." he continued, still somewhat lost in thought.

Rogue opened the fridge and reached for a box of lunchmeat. She paused, and could almost picture a lightbulb go off over her head as an idea came to her. Setting out the sandwich fillings and bread, she turned to Laura.

"Make a sandwich."

Laura looked at Rogue suspiciously, but picked up a plate and began. She placed the bread in the center of the plate, spread mayo all the way to the sides, and squirted mustard back and forth evenly. She picked out a few pieces of meat, flattened them out, folded them in half, and placed them on the sandwich. The cheese went on next, lined up with with the bread. Laura looked at her creation with a hint of pride. It was the perfect sandwich.

"No, no, no. It's all wrong," Rogue corrected. "Watch me. This is how most people make a sandwich."

She put two slices of bread on the plate, slathered on mayonnaise, squirted the mustard so fast that it sputtered, getting some on the plate, then grabbed a mangled fistful of meat and squished it down so that it would stay on. The cheese was crooked, and the top piece of bread was sideways.

"THAT'S how normal people do it."

"Really?"

"...well, some of them. The point is, don't be so rigid. Loosen up a bit!"

Laura thought about this for a minute.

"So the essence of normality is sloppiness?" she asked innocently.

Rogue looked peeved, although she could hear snickers from Kurt and Scott.

"No, it's just that you can't care so much about things that don't matter as much. Not that that's all that there is to it," Rogue explained.

"Are you trying to teach her to be normal?" Scott questioned, interested.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" Rogue asked, suddenly realizing that she shouldn't have said that if she wanted him to think of her as anything but a defensive, isolated, annoying southern hick.

"Well, you're doing it all wrong. You should..."

"I'm a big girl, Scott. I can do stuff for myself."

The comment was intended to make her sound mature, but she realized too late that it made her sound unappreciative. Scott shook his head and turned back to Kurt, ignoring Rogue. The southern girl was secretly hurt, but she knew it was her own fault.

"Anyway," she started, returning to her lesson, "Don't worry about doing everything perfectly, unless it's something like a test or something. But don't try and do it horribly, either," she hastily added. "Just don't be a perfectionist."

She spat the word, realizing too late that Scott overheard her. The older boy was slightly annoyed. He stood up.

"Ok, first of all, there's a lot of normal perfectionists. Secondly, I'M a perfectionist. Thirdly, I make my sandwiches the same way Laura did, and there's no problem with them. Except that mayo tastes kind of weird. She can be as perfect as she likes, and nobody will notice."

Rogue hadn't expected a lecture from her crush, and she began fighting back tears. So much for "big girl". She felt like a five-year-old who had screwed up completely. The crushed loner walked quickly from the room. Laura stood there, confused. Why did Rogue get upset by such a simple criticism? And how could people have different opinions of "normal"?

"What's wrong with her?" Laura inquired.

"She's, er, pretty insecure," Kurt revealed. "Plus, she doesn't take criticism well from people she wants to impress."

Hint, hint. Scott didn't pick up on the bait, and sat back down. Laura stood silently, contemplating the texture of the sandwich she had begun eating. It was a brilliant idea, really, being able to eat multiple foods at the same time. It's name didn't make any sense, as there was no sand in it, and she had no idea what a "witch" was. But it was good.

"What do you think, Laura?"

Hearing her new name snapped Laura out of her trance. She looked over at Kurt, who was talking to her.

"What?"

"I said, maybe we could do a cookout later today if the Prof will let us," he repeated.

"Aren't you sick?" Scott reminded.

"Yeah. But I'm still hungry. I've got to keep up my strength, you know," he joked.

"Well, fine. But I'M doing my own cooking," Scott replied, laughing.

"What advantage does being outdoors give to the food?" Laura asked, completely in the dark.

Boy, she's cute when she gets confused, Kurt thought, his face getting hot.

"There's no 'advantage'," Scott explained. "It's just nice to hang out outside. The weather is nice, and we can just sit and enjoy the the breeze. Nothing like a burger, a coke, and a nice breeze to get you going."

Laura perked up at the explanation.

"That sounds relaxing," she observed.

"Oh, it is!" Kurt exclaimed. "I love cookouts. Let's ask the professor!" he yelled, grabbing Scott's arm.

*BAMF*

Laura smiled to herself, and then remembered her dream for the first time. Her mood visibly went down. It had been her first mission, the first people she'd killed. It was unofficial, a supposed "practice run" that was being manipulated by a power-hungry HYDRA leader. The longer she stayed at the Institute, it seemed, the more remorse she had for her victims. Feeling very guilty, she headed to the Professor's office to catch up with Kurt and Scott. Anything to take her mind off the pain of her own misdeeds. The worst part was, she could just barely tell that they were misdeeds. She cursed her conditioning, and almost wished she had more of Logan's drinks. She longed to forget, but temporary reprieve was all she was going to get. Shrugging to herself, she went off to find Kurt.


End file.
